Time Heals All Wounds
by PhandomPen
Summary: One fateful day at their lockers, Santana is crushed by the one person she thought she could count on. Once Brittany realized her mistake, it was too late and Santana was gone. One day, they might be reunited...
1. Prologue

With every step Santana took away from Brittany, she felt her heart shattering into smaller and smaller pieces. Unlike every other time leading up to this, there was a certain finality this time that nearly forced her to her knees with uncontrollable sobs of pure agony. She didn't know how to breathe, let alone interact with people at this time, so she didn't even bother going to her next class: the very same class that seemed to be the root of all her problems.

Glee club.

Instead, Santana forced one foot in front of the other toward the main doors, then out into the deceptively bright and sunny day and into her car to peel from the parking lot. Fuck the weather. There should be thunderstorms and rain. At least that way her mood would be warranted. Maybe. It was something she kept telling herself with each passing second that she didn't drop dead from the gaping wound in her chest caused by the one person she thought she would never suffer heartache because of. Her beautiful, kind, blonde best friend.

The one that just rejected her. For Artie. She picked him.

Santana really shouldn't be surprised. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had picked her first for anything other than a game of dodge ball. And that didn't count. Sue picked Quinn for Head Cheerio over Santana who had worked her ass off the whole time the other blonde incubated her lizard spawn. Puck picked Quinn over his own girlfriend; his very same girlfriend that was in love with a girl. Finn told her she meant nothing. Schue picked everyone else first. And now Brittany. Brittany joined the ever-growing list of people Santana had secretly counted on to pick her first only for the Latina to be let down once more.

Guess that's what she gets for being a horrible person. That's the only explanation for it anymore.

Putting her car in park, she found her eyes rising to look at the modest house that she called home. She didn't even realize she'd made it there until that moment. Maybe she'd be lucky and her parents would be gone still. Yeah, right. She was never so lucky. Obviously.

Closing the door to the sleek black car she called her own, the brunette found herself numbly walking up to the front door and pushing it open after finding it unlocked. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she dropped her keys on the table just inside the door before shuffling lifelessly toward the stairs which would take her to her room where she could hide for the rest of forever and hope the pain faded.

"Mija," a familiar voice called from behind her, causing her step to halt, body curling forward to hunch her shoulders, "What are you doing home so early? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, mama," Santana tried to say convincingly, only for her voice to crack audibly in the middle of her words. Big surprise there. She couldn't even brush off her mother appropriately anymore.

"Did someone hurt you," the voice said from a closer position, before a small woman walked around and into her line of sight, the lines of her face softening from bristling indignation to sympathy almost instantly at the sight of her deeply wounded daughter, "Oh, baby girl. Come here."

Santana found herself drifting closer instinctively only for her mother's deceptively strong arms to wrap tightly around her, pulling her into a hug that might have helped hold her together if Brittany hadn't broken her so completely.

She didn't even realize she'd started crying until minutes later, her face pressed to the soaked shoulder of her mother's shirt as her hands twist tightly into the material at her back, drawing her closer as her whole body shook and shuddered with each sob. In her ear, she heard Maribel's soft voice shushing and cooing softly to her to try to ease even a fraction of the obvious pain she was in.

"What's goi—" the voice of her father cut through the quiet as he stepped in from the living room, his eyes falling on the sight of his wife trying to comfort his only daughter. Doctor Rafael Lopez found his eyes meeting Maribel's as she soothingly ran her hand over Santana's long hair. Instead of continuing his line of questioning, the tall man stepped up next to his wife and rested his hand in the middle of Santana's back in silent support, his brow furrowing at his inability to help soothe her.

After several long minutes standing there, Santana's sobs finally started to subside under the attention of her parents, her mother's arms loosening just enough for Rafael to bend and scoop her into his arms, frowning at the obvious lack of weight as well. He'd have thought being off the damned Cheerios would see some weight return to his daughter's form, but he was obviously mistaken. That was a conversation for another time, however. There were more pressing matters to attend right now. Like just what had his normally stoic daughter in such a state.

Moving to the couch, he sat himself back down without once loosening his hold on her, feeling her instinctively curl into his chest as she used to when she'd sit on his lap. Maribel taking a place at his side, reaching a hand out to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind Santana's ear.

"What happened, mija," she asked softly as she looked at her daughter.

"I—I'm unlovable, mama," Santana's voice said quietly, albeit roughly from against Rafael's chest.

"That's hardly true," her mother replied quickly, wanting to quell that thought process as quickly as possible, "We love you very much. As does anyone who takes the time to get to know you. You're a wonderful person, mija."

"Was it that Puckerman boy? I knew he would be trouble," Rafael added, giving his own show of support even as Santana shook her head against his chest.

"No. It wasn't Puck. He's with Lauren, anyway," she said softly, exhausted from the rollercoaster her emotions were on.

"Was it Brittany," Maribel asked after several beats, Santana stiffening in his arms in fear almost instantly, "Honey…we know. We've known for a long time…our walls aren't that thick."

"…yes. She picked him. After saying she loved me and wanted to be with me," Santana said after a short pause, her father's hug only tightening around her as he tried to physically make her feel better, "Everything hurts."

"Oh, mija," Maribel said softly, hand lifting to stroke softly over her hair, trying to soothe the hurt away, "I know, baby. I know."

"Don't make me go back…please. I can't. I can't," Santana began begging, her voice rough as she immediately began thinking the worst, "I can't. Don't make me. Please."

"We won't," Rafael said swiftly, drawing a surprised look from Maribel as he dropped a kiss to the crown of Santana's head, "We won't, mija. I promise. We'll send you to another school, okay? You won't have to see them if you don't want to."

His eyes met those of his wife as he silently communicated with her, giving her a small nod as they both made up their mind right there.

"We're moving anyway, mija," Maribel added after a beat, rubbing the teen's back gently, "Your father got a wonderful offer at Columbia University's med school. We were trying to figure out how to tell you."

"You mean…I don't have to see her anymore," Santana asked with a raspy voice, lifting her head to look between her parents, "You're not going to make me?"

"No. We'll call the school and withdraw you tomorrow. We'll move within the week," Rafael said softly, watching her reactions as he offered her a small smile, "You'll be okay, mija. Time may not heal all wounds…but it does make them bearable. And I hear New York is home to lots of different peoples of different cultures. Maybe you'll find some lucky girl to show you that you are as lovable as we already know."

Santana found herself giving them a small, weak nod as the two adults comforted her silently until she fell into a deep sleep.

"I never though we'd be having this discussion this soon," Maribel said softly, shifting Santana off Rafael's lap so they could lay her down and cover her up, "I thought we'd have years before her first heartbreak. And I didn't ever think it would be this serious."

"Moving will help. It won't twist the knife like seeing her everyday would," Rafael said quietly, "I hope she doesn't change too much."

"Only time will tell, Rafael. But you were right. New York will be good for her. And she always did enjoy skating. I'm sure there's plenty of it there," Maribel said idly, already starting to plan the details out in her head.

"Let's be honest with ourselves. She enjoys the thought of blades on her feet. She's always been like a son in that regard. We'll see what New York makes of her," he said quietly as they both looked down at the sleeping girl, "For better or for worse."

* * *

><p>AN: And that's that, setting up the story. So, this is my first fic in a long time, so reviews will be much appreciated. Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time.


	2. Chapter 1

"Lopez! Get up! We're going to be late!"

Groaning to herself, Santana felt herself stirring with a low groan, pushing her upper body off her bed before her door burst open emitting a red-headed whirlwind. The woman in question went straight to the Latina's closet, pulling out a gear bag and stuffing changes of clothes in it like it was the end of the world.

"Dammit, Lopez! Get your ass out of bed, or we'll miss the bus," she snapped, reaching over to jerk the covers off the brunette, "You forgot your damn alarm again!"

"Shit," Santana groaned as she hoisted herself out of the bed quickly, pulling on clothes in the same hurry the redhead was exhibiting, "They won't leave without us…I think. Fuck, I wanted to get a coffee, Bre."

"Guess you should have thought of that before chasing that fine tail at the Sigma party last night," Bre said, "Speaking of…did you strike out?"

"Hell no, I didn't strike out. I have a date on Friday," the brunette said as she bent down to pick up her bat bag and duffel before grabbing Bre's arm, "Let's go! We have a game to get to…and I might still be able to get my coffee. Can't have me slacking on the field."

It wasn't a new sight to see the redhead and the brunette sprinting from the dorms, in an obvious rush. Santana was notorious for not setting alarms, and Bre wasn't much better with getting up early enough to get Santana there on time as well. So when they ducked into the Starbucks, they only had to pay before Santana's usual coffee order was being pressed into her hand and they were back out the door at a sprint to make it to the bus in time.

See, after that day at the lockers, the Lopez family moved to New York and Santana was put through boarding school. She graduated at the top of her class and was accepted into a multitude of colleges on both athletic and academic scholarships. But the real kicker, she'd dropped cheerleading and glee club when she transferred, and instead she'd picked up softball and the guitar. It was the lesbian thing to do, right? All lesbian's played golf or softball, and golf wasn't nearly as exciting.

So Santana had gotten herself a full-ride at UCLA, pre-med, and a spot on the softball team as well. To say her parents were proud, her father doubly so since she was following in his footsteps and going into medicine. Even if it was surgery, but he could ignore the fact that she would be one of those hotshots just because he was proud of his daughter for what she'd done with her life after getting utterly destroyed by Brittany.

Though, both of the elder Lopez's could tell that she was still deeply troubled by that rejection, even if she'd worked so hard to turn everything around and move on. Hell, she didn't even know what had become of any of her old friends from McKinley. She'd never once looked back, having bottled up the pain and ignored it, never intending to let it get to her again.

So when she'd been roomed with Bre her freshman year, things had been rocky at first before their first day of practice, where they'd worked seamlessly together and became inseparable since. Brianna, who was a redhead from North Carolina on an athletic scholarship, preferred to be known as Bre or Breezy. In fact, Santana wasn't sure if anyone on the team even knew her name for sure; the only reason she knew it was Brianna was because she remembered the surprise parent visit…which coincidentally ensured that she'd never sleep naked again, considering those people had no sense of modesty.

As they reached the bus, Santana was the first to bolt up the stairs in a thunder of steps, closely followed by Bre as she gave the coach a crooked grin.

"Lopez! Thatcher! You're late!"

"Sorry coach, won't happen again," Santana said in her usual line as she sank into her seat near the back, Bre dropping into the one beside her as one of their teammates knelt up to look back at them.

"You know…she'll leave without you two one of these days."

"Awe, is that concern I hear from your mouth, Cash," Santana mocked, reaching up to muss the black-girls braids playfully, "I feel so warm and fuzzy inside."

"Whatever, Satan," the other woman said with an amused smile, swatting her hand away, "Just please don't get left. I don't feel like trying to win a game without our star shortstop. And whatever it is Bre thinks she does."

Chortles were heard all around as the team poked and teased at the redhead who made a show of acting offended.

"It's alright, Breezy. I love you, even if Cash doesn't," Santana said, leaning in and making a kissing face at her, only to be stopped with a hand in her face and a noise of disgust.

"Ace, you are one hot piece of ass, I'll give you that much. But I swear to God, if you kiss me, I will hurt you," Bre said with a grin, keeping Santana at arms reach, "Damn predatory lesbians. Can't get you around any females or you just try to get your 'mack' on."

Heaving a mock-disappointed sigh, Santana slumped back with a pout, staring at the redhead.

"Ouch. My heart is wounded again. Why must you be so cruel to me, Bre? I only want to love you," Santana said much to the amusement of the other women.

"Because I don't play for your team, Lopez. I'm all about the D, not the V," Bre said matter of factly, making a point in what is an ongoing argument between the two, "You'll get over it. You have a date on Friday. And if I remember right, that blonde is even hotter than you."

"What? Lopez has a date," Cash said, peeking around the seat again as other faces joined in looking at the Latina, "With who?"

"You guys know that pretty blonde she was all over at the Sigma party..."

"No way! Way out of your league, Lopez. And I thought she was straight," Cash said, looking at Santana in confusion.

"It's college, Cash-baby. Everyone experiments in college. And hell, maybe she's just gay for me, but either way, I have a date," Santana said dryly, rolling her eyes at her teammates, "You guys are a bunch of gossip whores, you know."

"But I don't understand…I've been trying to get her for ages," Cash muttered under her breath, "Dammit, Lopez."

"Hide yo' daughters, hide yo' wives," Bre chirped in amusement as Santana tipped her seat back with a small chuckle of her own, putting her earbuds into her ears to try and get some more sleep on the ride to the airport.

They'd been accepted to play in an East Coast collegiate tournament, and Santana had been greatly looking forward to the trip and tournament since it had been announced months ago. Not to mention, her parents had promised to be there, and she'd not seen them in months. Months of just phone calls to cope with not seeing the people that had uprooted their lives just for her. Don't get her wrong, she appreciated the move to New York all those years ago, but she wasn't at all deluded into thinking it was for anything other than to try and make her less distraught than she had been that one day after pouring her heart out to Bri-her. She'd be lying if she said she'd never even thought about her since that day, but the blue-eyed woman had been on her mind at least every day since then, bringing with her memory the pain from that day as well.

Which was why her having a date was such a big deal. Santana wasn't well known for having legitimate relationships anymore. She was more likely to just have one night stands and short flings than to allow herself to slip into another position to be hurt. Not that she'd let the relationship with the Sigma Party Blonde progress very far; it was a fact that the entire team knew, but just didn't vocalize for Santana's benefit. They knew that she had history and commitment issues because of it, but they were all close enough at that point to just want to see the Latina happy.

"Santana. Hey, Ace. We're here," Bre said, shaking the brunette awake after what felt like mere seconds, "Time to catch the plane, then you can go back to snoring."

"I don't snore," Santana snapped reflexively, standing up regardless as she picked up her bags from the aisle where they'd been tossed by Cash.

"She's right, Bre...Ace definitely drools," Cash added from her spot in the back, resulting in Santana taking a step close and landing a sharp slap right to her ass, "Ouch! Motherfucker!"

"You had that one coming, bitch," Santana snarked, giving a smirk as she put her shades on her face, "You're just lucky I didn't get you again."

Chuckling to herself, Santana disembarked the bus, looking around in the terminal where they had parked to unload, looking around slowly with a small frown, heaving a soft sigh before turning to grab the team duffel pulled out from beneath the bus containing all the helmets, draping it over her shoulder and stepping out of the way for someone else to grab some more gear.

She'd promised the team a night on the town, since they were going to be playing in New York. And her daddy had gotten a hell of a deal on rooms in Manhattan, relatively near their condo, so she'd definitely be in her old stomping grounds. But as with every second since she fled the hallways of William McKinley High School, she had that gnawing fear that she would run into one of the old members of the glee club. She'd vanished without even a goodbye, and the last thing she could do was face her past at this particular moment in time.

Maybe it would be better.

Right?

* * *

><p>AN: I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and favorited/followed this story. I'd hoped to have had this up much sooner than I'd gotten, but alas, work and school do not allow for so much. Hopefully the next one will be much quicker. And sorry that this didn't have a lot of stuff going on, I wanted to give everyone an idea what Santana has been up to and set the stage for the story.


End file.
